When I was 3 years old, I was tested for preschool. They did the general tests, sight, sound, feel, motor skills.... It's not like me to fail anything. I failed the sight test. I'm sorry. But I thought that cake on the screen was an apple. Three years old. I got these tiny glasses. Now for most kids, they would think just getting glasses isn't THAT bad. I was diagnosed with amblyopia. Amblyopia, also known as lazy eye, is a vision development disorder in which an eye fails to achieve normal visual acuity, even with prescription eyeglasses or contact lenses. Amblyopia begins during infancy and early childhood. In most cases, only one eye is affected. My right eye was being shut off by my brain! A package of what looked like large bandaids, was handed to my mother. Holding back her tears, she stuck one over my left eye. The patch, covered my good eye, to force my bad eye to work alone. That patch sadly, didn't survive. Knowing a little kid, I cried it off. I cried off patches on the daily. I was seeing eye doctors every month. Four long years of patching had gone by. During those for years, patching hours changes. 4 hours, 8 hours, 6 hours. One day, when I was seven years old, the eye doctor called. He told my parents, I had to patch full time. All day. I was sobbing for days. I had to go to school with my patch. All the kids would know my long held secret. I got my teacher to explain my eye problems. Everyday kids would ask, "what happened to your eye." Even if they already knew what happened, they would keep asking. I cried tears everyday because of the names they called me. Like pirate and cyclops. They say "sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me ." Tell me how those words hurt less than a broken bone. Tell me. The names I was called. The dirty looks I got. The rude remarks. Kids can be cruel. By the end of grade two, I didn't have to patch full time. Grade three. I switched schools. No one would know my secret. I was still seeing eye doctors every month. My left eye, is strangely strong. In grade five, I decided to patch at school. It was much easier to patch, when I had friends to distract me. I patched during recess and lunch. "What happened to your eye?" Kids would ask every day. Every recess. I was called names. No one ever stuck up for me. Think about how sticking up for someone can change their life. Sit with the girl who sits alone at lunch. Invite the sad kid to be part of your group. To everyone being bullied don't let the words define you. Don't listen to them. You are amazing. I am now confident. Since I wore a patch for nine years, I can now wear anything. Keep working hard to reach your goals. Anything can happen.
